Slytherins Unsupervised
by LynstHolin
Summary: Never-before-seen footage from the Warner Brothers motion picture, "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince"! Slytherins know how to party!   Not to be taken seriously in any way, shape, or form. All Americanisms completely intentional


Rating: T for the alcohol and drug use (I am going to Hell for this.) and mild sexual themes.

Disclaimer: These characters (with one exception that I'm sure you'll figure out) belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. If I was making any money off this, I'd be living in a nicer neighborhood.

...

**[The following is a deleted scene from the film "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince." It will be included in the unrated "Wizards Gone Wild" special edition Blu-Ray, which will come with a souvenir Slytherin shot glass.]**

It is a Friday night at Hogwarts. The Hufflepuffs are having sing-alongs and group hugs. The Ravenclaws are discussing philosophy and exchanging witty bon mots while they enjoy foie gras. In the Gryffindor common room, the never-ending Quidditch discussion is raging. Occasionally, Harry Potter starts rambling on about how Malfoy must be up to something. Harry just spied on, um, saw him checking his hair in a bathroom mirror this afternoon, how suspicious is that when Malfoy's hair doesn't even move? Ron and Hermione smirk at each other. Hermione distracts Harry by opining that she thinks the new all-female Quidditch teams, with names like the Bengal Beauties and the Minnesota Minxes, are perfectly legitimate, not T-and-A exploitation that degrades the whole sport. Harry froths at the mouth.

Snape is barricaded in his office with a few bottles of Trelawney's cooking sherry and a photograph of Lily Potter. Knowing from past experience that their head of house will be holed up the entire night while he is in this state, the older Slytherins give the first and second year students a sleeping draught and levitate them into their beds. The partying begins.

There is an abundance of firewhiskey and weed. The Slytherin girls learned long ago that Filch is freaked out by feminine hygiene products, so they smuggle contraband into Hogwarts by transfiguring it into boxes of tampons. Pirated music is blaring out of a boombox that a clever seventh year girl magicks into working using a wire clothes-hanger, chewing gum, a wand, and a pixie in a jar. Half an hour into the party, a third year is already throwing up.

An hour in, and Pansy Parkinson is dancing on a table to Peaches' "Two Guys (For Every Girl)" with a bottle of firewhiskey in her hand, trying very hard to get Draco's attention. He hasn't been all that interested in her since the Yule Ball, when the _Mammaria Increasus _charm she had cast on herself wore off while he was feeling her up. Blaise is behind her with his hands on her hips as she grinds with the unnamed Slytherin Boy #27 (who incidentally has not been seen on-screen since Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban). Pansy takes another swig of firewhiskey. _He's still not looking_. She hands her bottle to Slytherin Boy#27 and unbuttons her shirt, shucking it off and waving it around over her head, whooping.

Gregory Goyle stares up at Pansy's lacy pink bra. He knows that eventually he'll be able to get her to go into the dungeon cupboard with him. He empties his bottle of booze and throws it into the fireplace. A third year walks a little too close to him, and Goyle relieves the younger student of his firewhiskey, thumping him on the forehead for good measure.

Draco Malfoy is not looking at Pansy. He is not looking at or speaking to anyone. He sits low in a chair with his bottle of firewhiskey wedged in his crotch, the way guys do, as if they're afraid someone will steal their drink. His shirt is half-unbuttoned and half-untucked, his legs sprawled out before him. A Bengal Beauties poster is behind his head; the women, clad in sexed-up versions of Quidditch uniforms, blow kisses and jiggle. He is brooding again, like he has been doing all school-year, which makes him ten times more attractive to a certain sort of girl.

One of those girls stands in front of him, holding a bong shaped like a dragon. You only think you haven't seen her before. All those meal-time scenes in the Great Hall when the camera pulls back and you can see all the kids sitting at the tables? She's there, I swear. Really. Her name is Monique Moonbeam and she has green eyes and** [this portion excised for excessive Mary Sue-ism] **Monique wears a very tiny skirt and fishnet stockings. She stands hip-shot, with one leg bent, displaying the inside of her thigh. She holds the bong out to Draco. He takes a hit without noticing the proffered flesh. Monique watches his mouth longingly as he inhales.

Vincent Crabbe watches from a dark corner. He is brooding himself, about how he can't get anyone to see him as anything but a dull-witted thug. Now he is feeling resentful because when Draco broods, it makes girls like Monique go into heat. Crabbe is tired of being invisible to girls. Even Millicent Bulstrode is ignoring him tonight, which he finds very hurtful, considering what she'd done with him the previous weekend. Come to think of it, no one has so much as looked at him all evening._ It's like I don't exist_, he thinks. He lifts a hand up to his face, and finds he can see right through it. _I'm disappearing_. There is a sound like a soap bubble popping, and Crabbe vanishes, never to be seen by movie-goers again.

Pansy notices Monique coming on to Draco, and gets her revenge later by spreading the rumor that the other girl once took on all of the Chudley Cannons in one go. The rest of Monique's schoolyear will be a nightmare.

Millicent is leading a boisterous game of Marry, Screw or Kill with eight other girls. Filch, Flitwick, Hagrid? Troll, goblin, giant? Vampire, werewolf, centaur? Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger? Goyle butts in, saying he would like to see any of the girls playing getting it on with Granger. He is pelted with cigarette butts and wadded up junk food wrappers.

Monique is talking, but Draco doesn't hear. He is too busy thinking about how much he hates his psycho-bitch aunt Bellatrix, and not just because of what he caught her doing with his father in the family crypt. He can't stand the way she acts as if he's five years old, how she is always trying to straddle the Dark Lord, and her conviction that Malfoy Manor (and Lucius) is her personal playground. Earlier today, he received a letter by owl from his mother:_ Your Aunt Bella decided to redecorate your bedroom. What she has done is interesting. Unfortunately, she Vanished your unicorn collection before I could stop her. But you are a big boy now, and I suppose you don't care all that much about such things any more_. His beloved unicorn plushie named Starlight that his father had won for him at a carnival when he was three, the music box with the porcelain unicorn on top that was an heirloom from his grandmother, all his collector plates from the Franklin Mint ... gone, all gone. Draco makes a fervent wish that his aunt gets eaten by Nagini.

Monique falls quiet, drooling over Draco's clavicles and wishing she is his bottle of firewhiskey. She wonders what sort of deep, manly thoughts he is having.

An hour later, Pansy is crying, because no party is complete without a crying girl. Millicent is trying to draw mustaches on the Bengal Beauties, but the women keep eluding her quill. Slytherin Boy #27 and some others are goggling at the moving pictures in Volume Six of "The Erotic Witch's Complete Guide to the Amatory Arts." Two drunk seventh year boys are trying to have a fight, but are mostly just falling on top of each other. The boombox is playing another obscene song. A fifth year girl shrieks like a tea kettle and leaps, claws out, onto a sixth year girl; Goyle watches happily as the girls rip out each others' hair extensions. The last third year standing is attempting to make out with a scandalized house elf.

Draco slides down to the floor, his empty firewhiskey bottle rolling under the chair. Blaise slumps down next to him. The dragon bong is broken, so they use one that is carved out of an apple. Draco lets out his breath, smoke curling from his nose. "So, like, when you Vanish something, where does it go? Can we go there and get stuff back?"

Blaise ponders. "I dunno. That's a deep question, you know?" Inhale, exhale. His bleary gaze fixes on Draco's head. "Yer hair... it's kind of... wow. It's effed up. I didn't realize until... wow."

Draco is too busy staring at his feet to take offense; he has just noticed that they are bare. "Someone Vanished my shoes. What if they'd Vanished my feet, too?"

"Wow. That's... wow." Blaise stares in fascination as Draco wiggles and spreads his toes. "Wow. Feet are really strange, you know? And toes... the toes..." He trails off into incoherency, unable to express the true wierdness of feet, and so just takes another hit. He exhales. "Feet."

Another hour, and Pansy and Goyle sneak out of the common room together, and Monique goes off with Slytherin Boy #27. Millicent is happily dancing by herself to a Britney Spears song, swaying and weaving patterns with her arms. Blaise is snoring. The last third year is no longer standing, having passed out on top of the house elf that is squeaking trying to free itself. The girls who had been fighting are now hugging and declaring their BFF-ness to each other.

The apple-bong falls from Draco's hand and splats all over the floor. Draco, who has somehow lost his shirt and belt, crawls on all fours to a bear-skin rug and kisses the snarling bear's head. "G'night, bear." He snuggles down on the brown fur and passes out as Friday night becomes Saturday morning.

In his office, Snape clutches the photo of Lily to his chest even as he slumbers. All the Hufflepuffs have long been in bed. The Ravenclaws have drunk their entire supply of 1982 vintage Happy Hippogriff claret, and are heading for their dorm rooms. The Gryffindors are dreaming, mostly of Quidditch, and Harry is talking in his sleep. "I'm an Auror now, Malfoy, and you have to do what I say. Take your shoes and socks and shirt off. No, leave your hat on. Now, take your gloves off with your teeth."

...

Author's babbling:

I don't condone any of the behavior depicted here. Except for fooling around with Lucius Malfoy in his family crypt. That's just HOT.

Harry's sleep- talking was inspired by "Deatheater Inspection" by ile-o, who is one of my favoritest HP fan-artists. If you haven't seen it, it's well worth checking out. It's on deviantART and Live Journal. Though the line about the gloves was also inspired by Sebastian Michaelis of "Kuroshitsuji;" I'm fairly certain that the reason there is so much art depicting Sebastian as a pole-dancer is the glove-biting.

The unicorn collection was inspired by "Manly Hobbies" By MissingEden, a picture that just cracks me up. It can be seen on y-gallery. You don't need to sign up to view it, as there's nothing objectionable it... unless you have a unicorn phobia.

I have permission from both artists to borrow their ideas.

A great big thanks to pokeyspot for being my beta-reader (and for adding the elf-squeaking), and making this newbie writer feel welcome.

Slytherin Boy #27 was actually just s Slytherin Boy in the film; the #27 was added by my beta to distinguish him from the horde of other nameless Slytherins running around. He was played by Bronson Webb, and you can see photos of him in IMDB.

At first, I was trying to depict the Slytherins partying like spoiled rich kids in an '80s teen movie, but it got both much sillier and more realistic. I've actually heard the foot conversation. Marijuana: the Stupidifier! Did I just turn Pansy Parkinson into a Woo Girl?

The last time I watched HBP, I couldn't stop fixating on how incredibly, utterly wrong Draco's hair was for Tom Felton's face. It's like Tom was being punished for offending the God of Hairdressers. There are a lot of people on the internet who are, like, Tom/Draco got ugly! And I'm, like, grar, no, it's just the hair! And now there is proof on deviant ART: just look up 'slytherin' by chouette-e. If Tom Felton was any cuter, I'd put a sparkly collar on him and carry him around in my purse. (Purse chihuahuas are so last decade; I'm starting a new trend.)

As for Monique Moonbeam, she's one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts! Even though she's a Slytherin, she's so nice that everyone loves her! And Draco falls in love with her! But his father makes him marry Astoria! Monique's super-duper-niceness creates a deadly chemical reaction with her desire to carry on with a married man, and she explodes in a shower of glitter! The end!


End file.
